DYNAMITE BITE — RESCUE RAID

[Keona.]

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✯ — keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. minnow of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

So.  As her uncle promised, the crew had arrived.  Full calvary.  It made her paws tingle.  Eyes brighten.  Until Valkyr.  Something about his deamor made her falter from the idea of rescue.  He still frightened her.  Quite a bit really.  Running from Valkyr just did not seem like a logical action.  Not with his abilities.  Even so, Keona had grown to notice the Pittian's threatening attitude towards those less friendly to her.  Like he felt... Protective.  It bewildered her.

Wasn't she a prisoner?  A child yes, but a captive, right?  It made no sense, from a tactical sense, to grow attached to a captive.  Yet that appeared the case.  Keona felt her head tilt upwards towards the sound of voice, brows creasing.  Running would be easy now, right?  Running was the... Right choice right?  Keona belonged with her crew.

'Can be earned...' Proven.  Deserved.  Running to the crew seemed so foolish all of a sudden.  The ideas placed in her mind by her uncle and the request rendering her paws to something frozen solid.  A frightful child, that'd be what was rendered of her.  Frightful.  Blind.  Little child.

The fae's ears flattened.  Her uncle... She pondered on warily, wondering which choice he'd approve.  He seemed to think her capable of more than she did.  She had to prove him right... Right? Whatever the choice, he'd remain at her side, surely.  A snake in the garden.  So the kitten did not move from Valkyr's side, throwing him a wary glance however as he sat.  Right.  Not a physical combatant.  Would he seriously hurt her crewmates through mental attack?

Could she stop him if she tried?  Doubtful.  Her mental shields may have improved, with the extreme vigorness she had approached the matter, but she did not match up to him.  Time to see if her crew did.  Assuming no one got in their way.  The full force of the Pitt had not yet shown it's face and Keona grew antsy about being caught in the crossfire.

tá mé i dtiúin — ✯

[MORIBUND]

// [member=1517]Luca[/member] will be capturing mori c:

moribund's two heads can't breathe. their heart is rushing, pounding. frantic little heart beating against their shared constricting ribcages. there is a dragon-- might, incomprehensibly powerful. the indomitable strength from the invading group overwhelms them. moribund never knew they could be this pitiful.

there is ice in their brains and fire in their belly, and one of the heads want to vomit. the threat was real and it was like nothing they had ever experienced before. the scent of burnt, charred flesh rose to their duo nostrils.

what were they to do?

they're shaking, limbs trembling ever so urgently. stop. get it together.

they can't.

head dizzy, and consumed with the urge to get away. anything. this was worse than the herd before them. who were these strangers, who came with such rage and vengeance?

hopeless anxiety addled their stomach. they were outside. tied to the post. exposed. the siamese twins wrenched at the rope tying them to the outside post with such vicious frenzy that the feeble wooden post came undone from it's root in the sand.

the sounds of callous battle and the din of bloodshed confused them, and they were shock still in place. would they run? would they be cut down in the midst of battle, caught in the crossfire?

[glow=grey,2,300]･ﾟ✦ —— tags[/glow]

[bubblegum]

[Luca]

Luca was a part of the rescue team, so there would be no chaos for him. His job was easy: he'd go in, grab somone, and come out. Four hundred years of kidnapping meant that he had the experience, but his mind was admittedly wandering. He had initially signed up for the raid so that he could save Junji, but the sweet angel had found his way home without any help in the end. Now Luca's thoughts remained with him back at the Typhoon. He wanted to be with him, he wanted to hold him, and he wanted to get this stupid raid over as soon as possible. Goldie was the only reason he was actually here right now. The demon would never come near slave owners without a damn good reason, and she managed to hit that mark for him. He wished that Junji had been able to break her out as well,  but life rarely ever turned out that perfectly. The sounds of destruction and battle roared in his enhanced senses as he slunk behind the rest of his crew. He was about to sneak inside and join the fun, but he was stopped by the sight of something interesting.

Two heads, one body. Luca assumed they were a slave due to the way they were tugging away at that rope, or maybe they were non-sentient, like a lot of prey animals tended to be. Either way, their appearance and pitiful demeanor definitely made Luca want to keep them. He hadn't had a pet in so long, and a life with him would certainly be better that one in a place called the Pitt. He broke off from the rest of the raid to approach the curious animal, his steps light but quick. He wanted to knock them out before he cut that rope, it would be no good if they were quicker than him and managed to escape. "Precious thing," he cooed softly as the circled the creature. "Be good now, okay?" And then he leaned in and aimed to clamp his jaws around a throat, not hard enough to strangle but with enough force to inject [member=2277]MORIBUND[/member]  with his venom. He hoped they wouldn't struggle too much, he was doing them a favor after all.

[Mobile sorry!]

[Luciferr]

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THE FUTURE IS NOT A RIVER TO CARRY US, IT IS THE OCEAN IN WHICH WE DROWN IF WE ARE NOT PREPARED

/throws my other typhoon char + his pet here.

From the fire burning the grounds below, Alek watches in mild interest at the sudden chaos and the various panickings or confusion - it brings to mind many a time he'd been such a harbinger often to the republic and then to valkorion's new pet empire - but the desert monments remind him somewhat of korriban and he finds he's all to happy to watch these slave masters burn - he'd killed Harkun for such treatment once.

"Hm, can't let them have all the fun can we" he hums quietly to himself, claws edged in red-orange glowing like his once saber click and rake along rocks as he moves down, tail flickering to signal his pet beast "Come Nyfyl, time for fun" and his cold smile is anything but friendly as he leaps forwards above the black fire like some demon apparition - and given how his horns arrange thats not a bad assessment - and down onto the hapless fool below, crushing him beneath his claws and the stench of electrified flesh wafts from the jerking corpse - behind him his faithful pet bellows a roar.

sith has called for him and Nyfyl finds his leader is genrous for there are so many here to eat - the blackened hide of the hssiss rears up onto his back legs as he bellows a challenge, the ground bound 'dragon' bears no great control of fire or lightning like the myth soaring the skies above or his lord but the venomous fangs and frightening claws&teeth are more than enough

/pls @ me if you attack either, put it in MAROON if its nyfyl so im aware tho (no capture and v hard dificulty)

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TAGS - REF [5FT] - NIFYL [8FT] - SITH LORD - TYPHOON

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© LEXASPERATED

[COSMIIX]

[glow=black,1,400]A BEATING HEART OF STONE, YOU GOTTA BE SO COLD TO MAKE IT IN THIS WORLD — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

A snarl rippled from the throat of the direhound, he walked forward with his ears pinned against his cranium. He wasn't a dragon but he was just as big as one of them, the fur along his neck and back rose slowly with a sudden hostility. These guys weren't welcomed here and well, Quill wouldn't hesitate in showing them,to the door roughly. His tail lashed to the sides for a moment, his pupils immediately narrowed at the sight of Moribund being caught by some pirate. Alright, that was not good with him. The lupine-like creature stood upright with his muscles a bit stiffened yet, he was ready to fight for the two-headed lamb back and to get these Typhooners out of their lands. Hopefully, Benny would arrive to assist the small forming group of Pittians.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia;"]☣ — A ravishing growl rushed throughout the male's throat as the smell of salt filled the air. It was not the smell of blood, but instead the smell of- "Fish food." Finally, Pincher had noticed that his oh-so precious was gone and decided to rescue her. Unbeknownst to him, they would soon succeed, but like hell if he wouldn't go out fighting. The thrill was too much to abandon. There was too much left to do to Goldenluxury... She was not ready to become one with the outside world, especially within the hands of those savages. Though, the Pitt was not a better influence. Still, the dastardly lion wanted to finish his experimental priming upon her, but it would sadly come to an end.

Rushing to where he kept his precious subject, Stryker found himself in a dilemma. There was little to go without hopping into the fight, but yet he kept pushing through, hoping to leave with the female unscathed. Even so, upon arriving to her side, he was in for trouble soon enough. They would come in claws blazing.

With an aggravated thrust in the direction of Goldenluxury's neck, attempting to push her against the wall she was nearing. He would pull himself in front of her. If they wanted their precious little girl, they would have to get through him first.

//beat him up however you please. major injuries are a-ok!

[bubblegum]

[MORIBUND]

amongst the din of battle, they did not notice luca until the other was upon them, whispering faux, honeyed words. how could they have noticed? they were ignorant as always. they were born useless and cursed, and will always be useless and cursed.

moribund's left head stiffens. they know this tune. they remember days of silver tongues and dialogue sweet as honey, made to entice and lead them in. those days, back in the herd. when their siblings were cold and callous and knew how to back mori into a corner, how to swindle favors from the freak until their kin abandoned their meticulous, careful games and gave in to the cruelty of the parents, to the thoughtless ruthlesness.

it does nothing to soothe them.

'come here, honey. don't worry. i won't hurt you,' used time and time again before the beatings came. knocked senseless and body painted beautiful and ugly shades of red among the black of their pelts. moribund obeyed time and time again because that was all they ever knew how to do. obey.

the words wrack a quiver down their spine, and their legs lock with the muscle memory of tensing every muscle in their body as the blows rain down. in their mind, surely luca will do the same to them. when will the beatings come?

they're expecting it this time, when the canine lunges. it instills a fire in their burbling guts. not the good type.

the right barely notices when the teeth sink in. their skin has gone numb, and the venom seeps into their veins like winter chill, working it's awful magic. somehow, they succumb even more to paralysis. the right head wants to guard themselves-- where did this sense of self preservation come from? they do not know it, nor do they notice it.

their body slowly falls limp.

[glow=grey,2,300]･ﾟ✦ —— tags[/glow]

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia;"]☣ —  As Goldenluxury is pushed closer behind him, he falters backwards so he can stand in front of protectively. His eyes narrow, split tongue flicking out of his mouth defensively. Stryker is unsure where to go. If they run out, they would be soon found by the other Typhoon members attempting to steal back Pincher’s pirate princess. If they stay here, they’d eventually be hounded by the pirates while having nowhere to run. Surely, he could give her up, but that’d leave him empty-handed. His best bet was to start running and drag along his new-found slave with him, only to seek temporary hostage... but there was another plan. Stryker thought he could possible manipulate her into believing that they were the ones being victimized, not the other way around. If he could pull this off, she’d be in his grasp.

Slitted eyes desperately turned to Goldenluxury. The lion’s eyes held a facade of troublesome anxiety in hopes she would believe his act. ”An attack,” he enthused. His voice wavered, mimicing a scared reaction. ”We’re being put on the chopping block, sweets.” A single claw aimed to prod lightly at her throat and then lightly scrape itself across it’s surface to mimick her throat being sliced open. ”We’ve got to defend ourselves or they’ll take us both,” he urged. For a moment he debated whether or not if he should move his stance out of Goldenluxury’s way to provoke his cause even further, but he kept himself in front of her. The overall facade of shielding her seemed stronger to him. It seemed as if he cared. In reality, Stryker just wanted to see his project finish out before he could throw her off to the side without a care in the world. ”We’ve got to go.” Another caring gesture. It’s not ‘I’, but ‘we’. A simple word could change the meaning of his phrase.

Answering her second question, the male grew concerned. He had to skew the perspective again to prevent her from knowing the truth, seeing that they’d probably have to persuade her to join them on the other side. Stryker had to invoke a fear factor somehow. ”Them?” he questioned darkly. His voice had changed, growing distant and cold, signaling his discontent with the subject. ”The Typhoon is a ruthless band of junkers unwilling to leave a living soul behind because of their frivolous greed and fishy attitudes.” The way he said their name in a daunting snarl was sure to provoke a reaction. ”They’re cold blooded fools who do nothing but take what they want and when they want it...”

A small smirk met his lips. If this was the time to pull the vulnerable card, now was the time. ”We can’t let them have a sweet girl like you.” His head cranes to the side, slitted eyes watching her carefully in hopes of a horrified response. ”Isn’t that right?” With that said, he remained in place. Hopefully no one had received word about their whereabouts just yet, the Slaver needed more time. Otherwise he’d have to speed up the process with a bit more of mental manipulation rather than using his tone.

//mobile, apologies